Home on the Ranch--The Colorado Cowboy's Triplets

by Laura Marie Altom

At some point during their mutual outbursts, she’d stood, gravitating closer and closer, until Camille now realized they stood toe to toe.

  If only they could see eye to eye on the issues that were no closer to being resolved.

  Chapter 11

  “We should check on the girls,” Jed said. As much as he currently couldn’t stand the sight of Camille, he was equally too proud to admit that much of what she’d said was right.

  “They’re fine. As loud as they are, we would hear them if Gramps had run into trouble,” she said.

  “We’re done here.”

  “Are we?”

  He rammed his hands in his jeans pockets. “I have nothing more to say.”

  “I call bull.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Everything!”

  He rolled his eyes. How had she forgotten that he’d offered her just that, but she’d flat turned him down?

  “What’s wrong with you? Do you even have a soul? I’m the one who left my career because of heartache, yet you reportedly have a great job and life that you love, yet from my point of view, all I see is this cold, lifeless machine.”

  “Are you kidding me? I cried like my nieces when I learned Emily died.”

  “Do you want a trophy?”

  Jed backed up as if struck.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for him.

  He grabbed her wrist, drawing her hand to his mouth, where he flipped it over, kissing her palm. “I’m sorry, too. All of this just came out and I don’t even know from where. I’m so angry—like deep-down, gut-level furious, and I can’t figure out why.” He kissed her palm again and again. “Help me, Cam. Help me remember how to feel.”

  She took his hand, kissing each finger, then his palm.

  They stood close enough that Camille could have kissed his lips, but she didn’t. She wanted to, but what then? Even if her tin man found his heart, what good would it do her? He wasn’t staying in Marigold, and given California’s crime, she sure as hell wasn’t going there. Just like when they’d called off their engagement, they were at an impossible standoff, with no solution in sight.

  “Wish I could help you,” she said. “But I’m the last person to ask for advice on remembering how to feel. I’ve seen husbands lose wives and parents lose children—multiple children to violence so senseless it made me retch. Before leaving my office, I’d routinely pop Dramamine while driving to crime scenes, because I’d tossed my lunch too many times to count.”

  “Lord...” Jed freed his hand in order to pull her hard against him, kissing the crown of her head, holding her for all he was worth. In this moment, he realized how much she still meant to him. How much she’d always meant. But that fact alone did nothing to patch the hole in his heart. “Has any of this made a difference?”

  “I don’t think so.” Tears welled in her haunting hazel eyes. “The two of us still have drastically different goals and needs for the remainder of our lives. The only thing we do have is this time together until your mom takes over.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged. “I was just thinking... What if we take this time to play out our every fantasy of what a life together might be like? Since we both know it’s a dream that for sheer practicality’s sake will never come true, what would it hurt to make believe? Whether for a few days or a few weeks, once it is time for us to again go our separate ways, at least we’ll have memories to see us through.”

  “I like it.” He pushed her far enough back to search her face. To tell if this proposal meant as much to her as it did him. “Let me get this straight. We’d be a couple again—in every possible way—but only till Mom gets here.”

  “Right. Deal?” She extended her hand for him to shake. Which he did. But while he still had hold of her, he reeled her close again. And when they shared the very air between them, and his pulse beat loudly enough to hear in his ears, he hovered his lips over hers, asking in a ragged voice, “Sure this is what you want?”

  She not only nodded, but closed the gap, pressing her lips to his. She felt so soft, so like his dream of her that he’d carried ever since their last kiss goodbye.

  Framing her dear face with his hands, he couldn’t get enough of her, parting her lips for a thrilling sweep of their tongues.

  She groaned, twining her hands around his neck and into his hair. “I’ve missed you. This.”

  “Same. But it won’t last.”

  “Can’t.” The kiss went on and on, as if they’d been starving and then discovered the ultimate all-you-can-eat buffet. “This will be enough.”

  “Perfect.” He meant the kiss, not the plan. She was right about them never being long-term together—there was no arguing that point. But it didn’t make it easier to bear. More like the way he dealt with the harsher aspects of SEAL training not because he liked it, but because he didn’t have a choice.

  “We should get to the babies,” she said. “But later...”

  “Lord, yes...” He nipped her lower lip, drawing it out, only to kiss her again.

  When they next parted for air, she said, “Let’s play it cool in front of Gramps. I don’t want him to know.”

  “Wise decision. No sense in anyone thinking we’re back together for real.”

  “Exactly.” She smoothed flyaway strands of hair back into her ponytail. Tugged at her pink T-shirt’s hem. “Ready to go?”

  “No.”

  She grinned. “Me, neither.”

  Together again, they touched foreheads, laughing, exchanging exhalations.

  “Tonight,” he said. “As soon as my nieces drift off to sleep, you and I have a date.”

  “Mmm...” She kissed him yet again. “I can’t wait.”

  * * *

  “Let me tell you, once that mountain lion and I locked eyes, I snatched up my rifle and...”

  Camille had heard the story of the mountain lion setting up housekeeping in Gramps’s mine more times than she could count. Usually, she enjoyed the embellishments he added with each telling, but at the moment the only topic her mind was capable of focusing on was Jed.

  His kiss.

  His intent that they become a couple in every possible way. An hour had passed since they’d come down the mountain trail to meet Gramps and the girls for lunch, and it was still all she could think about. “...I kid you not, that mountain lion turned out to be a momma. Not only was she livin’ in my mine, but her two cubs, too. Well, I couldn’t just...”

  Allie fussed in her carrier.

  Still listening to Gramps, Jed swept her up and into his arms, blowing a raspberry on her belly along the way. Was this the same man? It was as if their talk, their mutual decision to temporarily live out loud, had breathed new life into him. She liked the change.

  So did his niece, who sported a drooling grin.

  “Your grandmother—God rest her soul—made up a palette from a bunch of old clothes she was fixing to donate to the church. It was a lucky thing that the momma was in a played-out shaft, otherwise I might not have been so generous in sharing my claim.”

  “You ever see her mate?” Jed asked.

  “Nah.” Gramps scratched his wiry white beard. “But I will never forget the day she brought me a squirrel by way of thanks.”

  “No way...” Had Jed not heard the story as many times as she had? Or was he being polite? Regardless, Camille enjoyed seeing her two favorite men together. “How long did she stay?”

  “Just till winter’s end. After that, I never saw any of them again—well, correction. There was that time when she saved me from what I’m pretty doggoned sure was a Bigfoot.” He winked at Camille. “But that story might be too scary for the wee ones, so I’ll save it for another day.”

  Camille wouldn’t have minded more stories.

  With their picnic of deviled eggs, fr
ied chicken and potato salad spread out on the pretty calico tablecloth she’d found among Emily’s linens, Camille would be hard-pressed to recall a day from recent memory that had been more sublime. From the balmy weather to the company, happiness wasn’t just within reach, but hers for the taking—for a little while. It would be fleeting, but enough to get her through the dark times sure to come once Jed was gone.

  While all three took a baby to feed from the bottles Camille had also packed, Jed and Gramps shared war stories—Jed from Iraq and her grandfather from the tail end of WWII.

  Even the girls seemed lulled by warm sun and the carefree mood of the day. They’d grown in the short time she’d been with them. Emily had penciled in a well-child visit on the kitchen calendar for next week. The babies would be a smidge over three months.

  Developmentally, she had so much to look forward to. Even after Jed’s mom returned, Camille planned to stay and help. Maybe she could even sweet-talk her mother into making a visit.

  With Sallie in her arms, Camille took a handful of carrot sticks from the relish tray, then left the guys swapping stories. She’d rather visit with Earl.

  “Hey, buddy.” She approached him nice and slowly. “Hungry?”

  Hee-haw, hee-haw! He’d sniffed the carrots, nudging her hand before she’d even offered them.

  Sallie held out her tiny hand, wide-eyed at being this close to the creature.

  “Want to pet him?”

  The baby bucked in Camille’s arms, drooling, opening and closing her mouth like a little fish.

  “You’re wanting to taste him, aren’t you?” she said with a laugh. “Earl’s a patient mule, but I’m not sure how he’d feel about being used for a teething ring.”

  She helped Sallie pet Earl, who was so busy chewing carrot sticks that he didn’t seem to mind inquisitive baby fingers grabbing hold of his ear.

  “Girl,” her grandfather said, “I’ve eaten so much that I think Earl and me should go home for a nap.”

  “Want a ride?” Jed asked. “I could come back for Earl with Chase’s horse trailer.”

  “Nope. But I appreciate the offer. What should I do with this little lady?” He tugged the brim of Allie’s pink sun hat.

  “I’ll take her.” Jed placed Callie in her carrier, then reached for her sister.

  “Thank you, young man.” Gramps yawned. “She’s heavier than she looks. My arm was getting sore.”

  Jed laughed. “Try holding all three at once.”

  “Can’t even imagine.” Gramps took his gold pan from the table, put it on his head, sauntered to Earl, hopped on him bareback, then waved. “We’ll see y’all for supper tomorrow.”

  Camille moved Sallie’s arm in a wave.

  “That was fun.” Jed fastened the plastic lid on the deviled egg platter. “He’s a great guy. Makes me see where you got your spunk. I’m gonna have to hear that Bigfoot story.”

  “Promise, you don’t want to hear.”

  Snagging her around her waist, he pulled her in for a long, leisurely kiss. “Mmm... Didn’t think anything could top your deviled eggs, but that was before I’d had another taste of you.”

  “Where is Jed and what did you do with him?”

  “Ate him along with the last of the chicken.” His deadpan delivery, followed by a sexy wink was classic Jed. The one she’d fallen in love with all those years ago and could all too easily fall for again.

  Charming Jed was dangerous for her heart...

  * * *

  “Divide and conquer?” Jed asked once they got home. All he could think about was their new arrangement. How brilliant it was. All the benefits of the future he’d always imagined with Camille, with none of the catastrophic long-term results—namely, her leaving him. This way, with them both on the same page about the end date, that effectively ended his worries, allowing him to see just far enough into the future to know the break from her was coming, but since he knew ahead of time, it would be no big deal, right? “I’ll check the livestock and you handle baby stuff.”

  “Deal.” Still in the SUV’s front seat, she thrust out her hand for him to shake, which he did. But that wasn’t enough of her—not nearly enough. Proven by his damn near instant erection. “But help me get the girls to the kitchen first.”

  “Sure.” Patience had never been his strong suit, but in this case, it wasn’t like he had a choice.

  Jed helped arrange his nieces for Camille’s feeding assembly line, then trekked to the barn.

  Lucy and Ethel grazed at the far end of the pasture on tender new grasses, but in case they got hungry later, he put out hay and freshened their water. It would be warm enough that they wouldn’t need to stay inside, but he left their pen open in case they wanted shelter.

  The chickens seemed crankier than usual, with lots of warbling and pecking. They’d made a mess of the coop floor, meaning in good conscience, he had to give it a sweep.

  The goats seemed happy to see him, so they got extra grain and the table scraps Camille had stashed in the fridge from last night’s dinner. She was always thoughtful like that—thinking of everyone, including animals, before herself.

  She was great with her grandfather and his nieces. In a way, he wondered if her seeing so many lousy parents over the course of her law enforcement career had helped her internalize what it took to be a good parent.

  He was thankful she’d called him out on what uncle skills were most lacking—the warmth. He had been afraid to fully invest his emotions in the girls, the same way he was with Camille. But no more.

  All four ladies in his life deserved his best, and Jed was determined to give it.

  Inside, he found Camille seated in the kitchen booth with the babies lining the table in their carriers. She held two bottles and used the old dishrag trick to prop the third.

  “That was fast,” she said. “How’s the barn crew?”

  “Good—except for the chickens. I don’t think they like me.”

  “Oh?” She raised her brows. “How can you tell?”

  “It’s a gut feeling.”

  She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  “Probably.”

  They’d always bantered, but tonight the energy was different. Supercharged as if they both anticipated what was to come.

  “I vote we skip bath time,” he said.

  “We can’t do that. They’re all dusty from being outside for so long.”

  He pretended to inspect Allie. “She looks clean to me.”

  “It’s not even five. If we put them to bed now, we’ll be up all night.”

  “Thought that was the plan?” He winked.

  She sighed. “About that...”

  “Nope. Don’t you dare renege on our deal.”

  “I’m not. It’s just that...” She averted her gaze.

  “What?”

  “I want to—you know. But it’s been an awfully long time and I’m not even sure—”

  “Stop right there. It’s not as if I’ve been scoring major action in Syria.”

  “I don’t like the thought of you purposely going to dangerous places.”

  Shrugging, he said, “That’s kind of my job.”

  “How would your mother survive if something happened to you, too?” She swiped at silent tears. “Look at me, I’m an instant mess just thinking about it.”

  “Babe...” Seated beside her on the booth seat, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. “I’m good at what I do. That’s not to say accidents don’t happen, but that’s the last thing you need to worry about.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’d be gone, but I’d be here picking up the pieces of the emotional train wreck that used to be your mom.”

  “Wait a minute...” Forehead furrowed, he asked, “How did the topic switch from grown-up fun time to me dying and you assuming full-time care of my mom
? And presumably the babies?”

  “Somebody has to care for them.”

  Callie’s bottle slipped. Her red-faced screaming fury told the world she wasn’t happy about it.

  “Could we please focus on the here and now rather than my tragic future?”

  Camille nodded.

  It took fifteen minutes of beyond awkward silence for the tenors to finish their bottles.

  From there, it was another thirty from the start of bath time till everyone was dried, diapered and cuddled.

  Back in the den, Jed sat with Camille alongside the girls’ activity mat. Before Chase died, Emily had been an online shopping fanatic, scoring big time with toys and baby gear. He showed a black-and-white fabric pattern book to Allie, but she seemed more intrigued by her sister’s toes.

  “Want me to make a fire?” Jed asked.

  “No, thank you. It was such a pretty day, I don’t feel like it’s cold enough.”

  “How about some popcorn? We didn’t have dinner.”

  “You’re right. We forgot.”

  “Is that a yes to popcorn?” He jingled a turquoise dolphin that had a bell on its nose.

  Sallie yawned.

  “Thanks, but I’d rather have something more substantial. How do you feel about omelets?”

  “Good. Should we pop the girls in their swings and I’ll help cook?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  Midway through the process, he asked, “Do you ever feel like we’re living in that old movie Groundhog Day, where the same thing just happens over and over?”

  “I think that’s called parenthood.”

  “But isn’t something supposed to happen?”

  “Just my opinion, but I think the point of not only having kids, but life, is to live in the moment and enjoy the little things.” She sprinkled cheddar cheese over the diced ham and green onion mixture she’d already layered over the beaten eggs. “Like the smell of ooey-gooey melting cheese. Or the way all three girls hold their left arm out on every swing forward.”

  “How’d you get so wise?” Behind her, he nuzzled the back of her neck.

  “Years of college I’m still paying for.”